We can’t have you in the encampment. That’s what Father said.
“My dad is coming to pick me up in a bit,” I say.
“You can call him from the road,” Lee says.
A black truck pulls up next to us, the engine idling. Flannel is in the driver’s seat looking straight ahead.
“We have to go now,” Lee says. “If you’re coming with us, that is.”
Lee opens the back door.
I glance at my iPhone. The signal is still blocked from the digital jamming vehicle in front of the community center.
I imagine Father out on the utility road waiting for me. I can be there in ten minutes, safe and warm in the front seat, discussing what went wrong tonight and what we might do about it.
But if I don’t go now, what chance do I have of getting to Moore again? What chance do I have for completing my mission?
I search my mind for alternatives, but I can’t find any. The probability of success declines to nearly zero the moment I walk away from Lee.
I can’t lose this mission, not when I’ve been sent to complete it.
If I go in now, Father and Mother might be angry with me. But if I finish the job quickly, how can they be anything but impressed?
The stronger soldier succeeds where the weaker soldier failed.
I will show The Program that I am the stronger soldier.
I look at Lee standing with one hand on the open truck door.
Later I’ll think back on this moment and wonder if the soldier before me stood in front of a truck like this and made a decision about whether to go into camp.
But that will be much later. Right now, it is just me.
I glance at Flannel behind the wheel, waiting. I look back at Lee.
“Are you coming?” Lee asks.
“I’m coming,” I say, and I climb into the truck.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE?” A GIRL SAYS.
She’s in the backseat of the truck, her face obscured in shadow.
“He’s coming with,” Lee says. “Dad invited him.”
“And the night just gets weirder,” she says and looks out the window.
I slide in next to her, Lee following behind.
“Have you met my sister, Miranda?” he says.
“I haven’t had the pleasure,” I say.
Miranda doesn’t acknowledge me.
“And I guess I won’t now,” I say.
I expect that to earn me some reaction, but I get nothing. The atmosphere in the truck is tense.
“I kind of thought I saved the day,” I say. “Why’s everyone in a bad mood?”
“You may find an assassination attempt funny,” Flannel says, “But it’s not funny to us. Not by a long shot.”
I let shame bleed into my voice.
“You’re right. Sorry. That was a dumb thing to say.”
Someone knocks on the front window, a signal to Flannel. He grunts and puts the truck in gear. He pauses briefly at the exit to the driveway, then, with a squeal of tires, he pulls out behind another truck. I note a second truck behind us, filling out the motorcade that will take us to Camp Liberty.
“Everyone’s a little tense,” Lee says by way of explanation. “Don’t take it personally.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” I say.
“You weren’t thinking,” Miranda says under her breath.
“Not unusual for me,” I say.
I note her energy soften after I take a dig at myself.
Flannel drives quickly on the winding road, and I keep bumping into Miranda, our bodies touching in the darkness.
“Sorry. It’s a little tight back here,” I say.
“So you’re not trying to feel me up?” she says.
“I move fast, but not that fast,” I say.
She doesn’t respond, just shifts her torso and brings her hands into her lap.
I have to be careful about flirting with Miranda. I want to win her over, but not at the expense of my relationship with Lee.
This mission is shifting with each moment. What was a direct assassination attempt has become something more like a standard assignment. I need to consider Lee and Miranda as marks that I can use to bring me closer to their father. I will have to study them, quickly assessing how they interact with each other and with their father so I can keep myself safe as I make inroads toward Moore.
“We’re clear of the signal blocking now,” Lee says. “You can call your dad.”
“Good idea,” I say.
I pull out my iPhone. Miranda glances at it.
“Is that the new one?” she says.
“Yeah. Are you into tech?”
“We all are,” she says.
“We?”
“At Liberty. It’s part of what we do.”
“We’re a tech-heavy organization,” Lee says, explaining. “My father believes if you don’t stay on the cutting edge, you fall behind.”
“I saw that he was using an iPad onstage,” I say.
“Right. He’s in love with that thing.”
“It’s cool when old people try to use tech,” I say.
Miranda laughs. Flannel clears his throat in the front of the truck. A warning?
“No offense to anyone,” I add quickly.
“I’m not offended,” Lee says. “But if you say something like that at camp, you won’t be around for long.”
“Your father doesn’t have much of a sense of humor,” I say.
“It comes and goes,” Lee says. “But when it goes, it’s really gone.”
“I’ll be careful,” I say.
“The camp is organized on a military model,” Lee says. “That means you respect your superiors or you’re out.”
“Lighten up,” Miranda says. “He’s just coming for a tour.”
“It’s better he know now,” Lee says.
Flannel interrupts from the front seat: “Daniel was about to call his dad.”
Strange that he wants me to make the call.
“I’ll give him a try right now,” I announce to the truck.
I look to my iPhone. I can’t risk putting it in secure mode with them watching me, but Father and I have protocols for that. I have a public number I can call, one that will pass the signal through a relay and connect me live to Father on a phone used only for this purpose.
The truck is silent as the number dials through.
Three rings, that’s all it takes. I’ve used a public number on two occasions before, once on assignment in Ann Arbor, another during a mission in Austin, both in public circumstances where I was being monitored. Three rings and Father picks up. That’s how it works.
I wait three rings now, but there is no pickup.
Four rings with no response.
Strange.
Five rings. Then six.
I let it ring ten times, but Father doesn’t pick up.
“What’s up?” Lee says.
“He’s not answering.”
“Maybe it’s the mountains,” Lee says. “Signals have a way of getting distorted up here.”
“But it’s ringing,” I say.
“Maybe he’s ignoring you,” Miranda says, her voice teasing.
“Yeah, you might have been abandoned,” Lee says, picking up on Miranda’s energy. The image of hyenas comes to mind, the way they can be in competition with each other one minute, then working as a pack the next.
I’ll need to be cautious about this.
“Whatever it is, it’s fucking weird,” I say, letting them hear anxiety in my voice.
I dial again, and again it rings without Father answering.
“Nothing?” Miranda says.
I put the phone away.
“I’ll try him in a few minutes. I have to let him know where I am or he gets pissed. Then you don’t want to live in my world, you know?”
Suddenly the truck shudders and there’s a loud flapping noise from beneath us.